


Redemption

by sammie_darko



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Murder Husbands, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammie_darko/pseuds/sammie_darko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that Hannibal is gone and Abigail is dead, Will is forced to return to his life before. The question is: can he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is visited by an unexpected guest who poses a difficult question.

### Chapter 1

Friendliness never came easy to Will Graham, though it did exist within him. It was as if his empathy had soaked up all the sunlight and nutrients, casting its immense shadow over his friendliness, and he often wondered if this would had played out differently had he not spent his life moving from boatyard to boatyard with his father. There wasn’t much to do in those places, besides pick up fishing and wonder what kind of lives these people lived. Perhaps if his mother had never left, had he grown up in a more stable environment, he wouldn’t had turned out this way, but deep down, Will doubted it; he had heard too many stories of persons with troubled youths developing better social skills than he possessed. He had learned long ago that his disposition was more than likely due to his biological make-up, and although he had made peace with the fact, it never did help the sting of forced social events.

Being an empath, Will immediately knew when people didn’t want to be around him. There was no hiding shifting gazes and bodies that pointed any direction except his. Too often, Will found himself retreating from tightly crossed arms and narrow eyes. This wasn’t fear that Will felt; it was remorse. He never intended to make people uncomfortable, and yet it seemed to be the only thing he did. Perhaps this is why he preferred dogs. There was no need to force conversation with dogs. Everything they needed to know, they could just see. They didn’t have to hear it. Just like him.  
Unfortunately, it was never enough for Will to endure the simply ostracization. There would always be someone who would try just a little too hard to make him feel normal. Like Jack and Alana, who would always be afraid that their little tea cup would be shattered by the outside world.  
But he never complained. There was no point in pushing away the few people who at least extended some sort of friendship to him, no matter how warped it was, and at least through Jack, Will could turn his empathy into a secret weapon of sorts, to creep into the minds of some of the worst criminals and make the world just a little bit better. And although Will knew that they both meant well, he couldn’t help but feel that this was the closest he would ever be to being valued; existing as a weapon for Jack, and Alana’s subject of professional curiosity. At least until he met Hannibal.

For the first time in his life, Will had found someone who didn't shy away from his nature. Hannibal was never put off by Will's bluntness. Where others saw an awkward and possibly unstable existence, Hannibal saw fascination and usefulness. And although Will knew that Hannibal saw to use him like a weapon like Jack, to warn him of eyes that saw too much, there was always the way Hannibal treated him. _With reverence._ Hannibal didn't see him as a child whose imagination bordered on dangerous. No, Hannibal didn't see a child at all. He saw potential. Creativity. Power. For the first time, Will was viewed as in-control. 

 

  


But there was no excusing Hannibal. Friendship or not, he was a killer, _a cannibal_. Will had liked their game, loved it even. Never had it been more fascinating to delve into the mind of a killer, but Hannibal was no sociopath, not fully. He was able to appreciate what he saw as the finer things in life, and the finer people. He cared for them, in his own way. Perhaps he valued things on a scale, and every action, decision, shifted their position on that scale. Perhaps that's how he found it so easy to brutalize those he called friends. 

  


_“You were supposed to leave.”_  
 _“We couldn’t leave without you.”_  


  


Will could read that moment repeating behind Hannibal’s dark eyes, and even though the last time it played out, he was gutted; Will swallowed the inkling of fear as he saw the sliver of softness for him that still existed. No, Hannibal wasn't here to hurt him. Not now.  
“She’s dead, you know,” Will finally said, and finally, Hannibal returned to the present.  


“Is she?” Hannibal asked calmly, “That’s unfortunate. She truly was a gift.”  
Will began to chuckle darkly when a sharp feeling stabbed at his gut. It had been several months, but he still hadn’t fully healed.  
“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t slit her throat, she’d still be here, Hannibal.”  
"I did what I had to do, Will. You betrayed me. I had to prove to you that this wasn’t something I would take lightly.”  


 

Will searched his face quizzically. There was no more hiding, no innuendos dancing in Hannibal's words. Was this because there were no more maybes? No more he _may_ be a killer? No more he _might_ be a cannibal? It was fact now. Everyone in this chapter of Hannibal's life knew what he was.  
“You would still have me, then?”

“One could always use a friend like you, Will, as long as you were on their side.”  
He leaned back into his bed and stared up at his ceiling. It would be dawn soon. He could see the blue starting to press against the darkness. He closed his eyes.

“And what makes you think I would want to be your friend now, Hannibal? You have done nothing- _nothing_ for me but make my life hell.”  


A twisted grin began to pull at the corners of Hannibal’s mouth.

 

“Is that what you think?”  
“ _Think?!_ ” Will repeated, “This is what I know. You drugged me, lied to me, framed me for murder, and killed Abigail! Hannibal, she was just a kid!”  
“And yet, she was no more innocent than you or I.”  
He hissed softly, then silenced as Hannibal approached him and stood along the side of the bed, staring down at him.

“I know this may be hard for you to understand right now, Will, but Abigail was dear to me as well. This is not the future I had in mind for us.”  


 _Us_. The word ached inside of Will. He could see the three of them finding another Hannibal-sized home in the country side, far, far away from here. He could see birthdays and holidays and even new dinner parties as they made new friends. There was no fear anymore. They were safe.

“Then why.”  
It came out more as a statement than a question.  
“Because you decided that this wasn’t the life you wanted.”  
“I can’t-” Will’s voice began to break.  


 

“And you won’t,” Hannibal finished for him, “Now that Abigail has passed, the three of us can never move forward as a family.”  


Silence settled on them. Will was almost envious. Hannibal had loved Abby as well, how could he accept her death so easily?

“The question now then is, can you go back, Will?” Hannibal asked, “Now that you’ve spent so long seeing the world as I saw it, now that I’ve changed you, can you go back?”  


And with that, he began to leave.

“Hannibal!” Will called out as he ached to push himself up in his bed. He watched as the man paused in the doorway.  
“Hannibal,” he repeated, “I’m sorry.”  
“You know I already forgave you,” Hannibal answered.  
“Is it final this time?” Will asked hastily.  
“That depends,” he said, “But I will let you know if it isn’t.”  


  


Will could feel the dull ache of loneliness returning as he watched Hannibal walk away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will catches up on the latest news of his friends

  


When Inspector General Prurnell discovered the crime scene at Hannibal Lecter’s home, she chose not to pursue charges against Will Graham and Jack Crawford; however, she did see fit to put Jack on a fairly long probation period. While she knew that the violence committed at that house was done by the actions of Hannibal Lecter, she knew that they would not have occurred had Will and Jack not attempted to entrap him. During the time that Jack was hospitalized, she appointed a new head of Behavior Science who would help lead the team and keep tabs on Crawford when he returned.  
Will, on the other hand, was deemed unfit to participate in further investigations. Will knew that Prurnell still harbored ill will after he was initially framed for Abigail’s death, and even though her body was found at Hannibal’s residence, he knew she ultimately blamed him.  


_Which he deserved_ , he thought to himself. Perhaps this was part of his punishment; to relive the guilt of Abigail’s death in solitude, this time without the carefully crafted support from Hannibal and Alana. He thought of Alana often. He had heard that she had grown quite withdrawn as she made her recovery. _Bitten one too many times_. 

  


Of course, he had no doubt that one day Alana will successfully bury this under a rug somewhere in her mind; she had always been a strong and resourceful woman. But in the months following the incident, Will had not seen or heard from her at all, and he figured that was the way she wanted it. He had ruined her solid ground. He destroyed her happy relationship, destroyed her faith in others, and is essentially the reason she was in the hospital with broken bones and internal bleeding, all in one fell swoop. It would take a saint to forgive something like that at all. Will could help but think that it may be best that they never interact again. While Hannibal won’t be someone that they face regularly anymore, he will always haunt the back of their minds as the once-was and what-could-have-been. And even though Hannibal was in hiding now, Will knew personally just how easy it would be for him to return to finish the job.  
He wondered just what it would take for Hannibal to return. Will had no doubts that they were all alive because he meant for them to be. No cannibalistic murderer with a history of displaying his victims would intentionally leave people alive if not for a reason. He wondered if they would receive special visits from Hannibal as well, or if he was alone in that as well. 

  


After careful elaborations, Will chose not to tell Jack about his late night visitor when he arrived later that morning. They had all been through enough, and there was no longer any need to drag anyone else in the mess that was and will always be Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter. When he heard Jack pulling up, Will labored his way to the door to let him in. 

  


“I see Prurnell still hasn’t issued any warnings for you to stay away from me,” Will joked as Jack made his way through the threshold.  


“Oh, she has,” Jack returned with a grin, “There's just nothing official.”  
“How have you been, Jack?” Will asked as he poorly ushered Jack to his living room.  
“Been better. Still aches to move my head sometimes.”  
“I know the feeling,” Will replied. He had been cut deep. All along his pelvis, the muscles had been sliced open, and while the wound had sealed up already, Will still found it aching, more so when he’s reminded of it.  


Silence settled between them, as it always did when they were reminded of Hannibal. Will knew there was a tsunami of thoughts and feelings whirling inside of Jack each time, but they still needed more time before they were ready to talk about it together. For now, they played friends. Will wondered if Jack knew he was only one of two people who visited him regularly. Of course, it shouldn’t really come as a surprise.  


  


“How’s Bella?” Will finally asked.  
“Pretty good, actually,” he beamed, “I think this whole thing riled her up. Put her into fighting mode.”  
“That’s good, Jack,” Will replied, “Give her my best.”  
“And the guys?”  
“The guys continue to be glad that they do most of their work in the lab.”  
Will grinned.

  


“What about you, Will? Surely you’re getting restless staying cooped up in this house?” Jack asked as he studied the chipping paint on his blue/green walls.  
“I’ve considered moving some place warmer,” Will answered wistfully, “But I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready to move on quite yet.”  
Jack nodded in return.  
“Well, if you do choose to go somewhere else, I hear Florida is a great place to get back on your feet.”

  


  


When Jack finally left several hours after intermittent small talk and silence, Will chose to sit out on his porch and bask in the summer heat. _Today would have been a great day for fishing_ , he thought. He closed his eyes and pictured himself relaxing on a small boat with a fishing pole fixed at one end. He waited, listening to the breeze and the water as it drifted downstream. The sunlight warm on his skin.  
 _“There’s no more fish, Dad,” the girl called out to him._  
 _“Oh, there’s fish,” he responded as he glanced over to see Abigail leaning over the edge of the boat, gazing down at the float._  
 _“Just not in this stream,” she said, turning to face him._  
 _“Just not in this stream,” he repeated._

A pause.

_“What will you do now that there’s no fish?” she asked._  
 _“Find something else to do, I suppose.”_  
 _“Like hunting?” she grinned._  
 _“You know I don't hunt.”_  
 _“You did once.”_  


  


Flashbacks of Randall Tier and the fake, charred corpse of Freddie Lounds played inside his mind.

  


_“That was self-defense.”_  
 _“Was turning him into a cave bear self-defense too?” she prodded._

Another pause.  


  


_“Hannibal hunted,” she continued as she looked away again, “I did too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically I'm trying to set up what's going on with everyone else right now and catch up with what happened since Mizumono
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if it reads weird. I don't think I'm very good at formatting dialogue, and i find it extra difficult on here.


	3. Chapter 3

Gone were the days that Will participated in field and lab work. There were no fresh crimes scenes waiting to be dissected, no bodies to study. No more cannibals to lure. All that was left was a projector and a classroom of students. Will knew he should be grateful that the Inspector General allowed him, even this given how much disdain she held for him, but deep down, he knew she found him ultimately useful. He believed she hoped that his imagination would rub off on the students to produce more stable and controllable agents. Once, living like this brought him comfort. There were few conversations forced; students still too fresh to see him as a tea cup, no worries of having to draw a gun and wonder if he had the courage to shoot. All he had to do was make it through the day, and return home to his dogs. 

But there was little joy to his work now. Now there was no more fear of pulling the trigger. No monster he couldn’t stare down. Hannibal had shown him he was capable of so much more. Now the highlight of his day was imagining which of his students would end up like Miriam, or Katz. Or even him. It seemed that this would forever be the curse of the gifted field agents. No amount of enthusiasm they have now will make up for that. 

  


It didn’t take long for Will to realize that this is what Hannibal meant. Now that Will knew his capabilities, how would he adjust returning to the mundane, with the wary eye of Prurnell on him at all times?  


  


_”So this is your prison cell, then?” the smooth, accented voice spoke from behind._  
 _Will turned to face him, somber, as he recognized the tan suit from their first encounter._  
 _”I am not a prisoner,” Will whispered._  
 _”Aren’t you?” Hannibal replied as his gazed up at the screen depicting his home. Pools of blood lay on the floor. He grinned lightly, proud of his work._  
Will breathed heavily, collecting himself as he turned back to the class.

  


“Now Hannibal Lecter was not an ordinary sociopath, can anyone tell me why?” Hands shot up in the air as Will flicked to a new photograph. He pondered what answers he would receive. _He was a cannibal._ _He had a history in both psychology and surgery._  
“It is because of his ability to blend in,” Will answered for them, “He had the patience and emotional range to bond with others.”  
“Normally,” he continued, “When one looks for a sociopath, one looks for a criminal history. Of course, this only works with sociopaths who have been previously caught. When one wants to catch a fresh one, one has to look at their relationships with others.” 

  


Will swallowed as he flicked to the next scene, where Alana Bloom had fallen.  
“Not only did Hannibal manage to make friends within the FBI, he managed to convince a skilled psychiatry professor and criminal profiler, enough so that the two developed a relationship.”  
“Now some of you may wonder, how were we able to figure out what Hannibal was,” he paused, “Well… it took weeks of encephalitis, regularly interaction, and a visit to the first crime scene we encountered together for me to piece it together. It took several more months of persuasion for me to convince the FBI, making Hannibal one of the most skilled serial killers of our time.”  
At last, Will flicked the screen again, and writing prompts appeared.  
“Now I want you to imagine what it would take to convince members of the FBI that one of their friends, that someone they respected highly, was a serial killer. Tell me your design.” 

  


Will watched and waited as the students shuffled out of the classroom before turning back to gather his things. He saw the imaginary Hannibal waited for him.  
 _”Well done, Will,” Hannibal spoke, with contained fascination._  
Will glared at his fictitious company but chose not to engage him. The last thing he wanted was for the FBI to know that Hannibal had left a big enough imprint on Will that he thought of him, just to imagine what he would say.  
“That was really brave of you, Professor Graham,” a woman’s voice called from behind, and he turned, “The way you engaged someone so dangerous, even though no one believed you.”  
Will recognized the student quickly as Ardelia Mapp, a slightly above average student who had no problem socializing with her fellow students. Ardelia Mapp stood with her binder held close to her chest, indicating hesitance, but there was kindness in the way she smiled. She wasn’t afraid of him.  
“Brave,” Will repeated, “And incredibly dangerous.”  
“But it got the job done,” she replied as she moved towards him, “Now everyone knows what Hannibal is.”  
Will studied the way Ardelia’s hair spiraled against her dark cheeks then looked away towards the blank projector screen.  
“And now he’s gone,” he said.  
He could feel Ardelia’s eyes on him, and it made him uncomfortable. Students never really bothered him. That was the point of working here.  
“Maybe,” she said, “But you never know. He has three unsuccessful kills he might come back to correct. I mean, pride was one his motives, wasn’t it?” 

  


Had he discussed Hannibal’s motivation yet? Will hardened himself and faced Ardelia.  


“Perhaps,” Will replied, though he hardly meant it. Though Hannibal did exhibit pride in all that he did, he could not believe this is what drove him to kill and consume others. _No,_ he thought, _this was much more personal. The people he killed offended him in some way._  
A foul taste settled in Will’s mouth, and he attempted to swallow it. He could feel his invisible companion smiling from behind.  
“I should go,” Will said hurriedly as he moved past Ardelia. He needed air. 

  


  


Will had settled down in a chair at home, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he thought of Ardelia. He could see how people could view Hannibal's actions as a work of pride. The way he crafted the dead into art, the way he consumed pieces of them. The way he had parts of the FBI fooled. But Will knew better. He always had. Hannibal's proud nature was only a result of who he crafted himself to be. A well-respected psychiatrist with a history in surgical and medical practice who worked his way into the inner circle of socialites. Like Chilton, who many associated vanity with, only... more successful. 

As his companion joined him in the room, taking great interest in studying the room he had often visited, Will sipped at his whiskey.   


As if knowing the question perched at the tip of Will's tongue, Hannibal spoke, _"You know you're right. I would never waste a human life over something as frivolous as pride."_   
"Then why?" Will inquired as he stared into his cup. His imaginary company was so taxing to spend all day looking at. He knew these conversations were projections of what he felt Hannibal to be, felt Hannibal would say, but he couldn't stop imagining him. He had spend so long relying on Hannibal's opinion, it became difficult to live without it.   
_"Life is such an exquisite thing, Will. It gives us the opportunity to enjoy so much and to become something more,"_ Hannibal said, _"It is a shame to see life wasted on the undeserving."_   
"And how do you decide who is undeserving, Hannibal?" Will asked, as he warily looked up at him.   
Hannibal turned to face him, a small smile on his lips, _"Every person has their opinion on what a fulfilling life is, and every person knows when life is being wasted. Does a man who uses his education to destroy the environment deserve the air he breathes? I can think of much better uses of those lungs."_

  


Will Graham swallowed. Though there was once a time where he would be disgusted at the thought of using one's personal judgement to rid the world of pests, he understood what Hannibal said. Like that social worker, Clark Ingram, or Mason Verger; wouldn't the world be a nicer, cleaner place had Will just killed them?   
He chose to end his conversation with Hannibal there, electing instead to drink in silence for the remainder of the night, disturbed only occasionally by his dogs. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I literally just started this and I haven't written a story in approximately 3-4 years, but there's just something about the relationship between Hannibal and Will that I wanted to put into words, so here I am.
> 
> This chapter takes place several months post-Mizumono. Hannibal returns briefly to Will as he recovers to share one last conversation.
> 
> Also also, I'm literally brand spanking new to this website and html so I'm sorry if it doesn't read well. I could really use someone to help me with formatting.
> 
> Also also also, this is only the beginning. I will be posting more!


End file.
